


The Poor and Downtrod

by orphan_account



Series: God Help the Outcasts [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Made up character, Mental Institutions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean's breakdown in the shower, he awakes to find himself in a white room, in the middle of a mental institution</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Poor and Downtrod

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 8 here we go!! Love y'all!

Week 1

Dean woke up in a bed that was no more comfy than the one at the motel. His arms were pinned to his sides, and all he could see was white around him. Except for a blurry green figure beside him.

“I'm....sorry Dean. We had no other choice. Sam found you in the bathroom.” A warm voice muttered in his ear. 

The hunter took a moment to recollect everything. The shower. The razor. The blood. It all came rushing back. “Cas...?” He whispered softly. 

The angel took his hand, trying desperately to heal him, but for some reason it wouldn't work. “Hello, Dean.” 

“Where am I? Oh god...this isn't...”

“Heaven? Of course not. Heaven is much more imaginative. In all honesty, I'm not entirely sure where you are right now. But the souls occupying this area are tortured and broken. This place bears much resemblance to that of Hell.” 

Dean breathed out a sigh of both relief and discomfort. If he had to guess, he'd say he had finally made it to an institution. Worst of all, Sam knew now all about what really goes on in Dean's mind. What would his father say? 

He looked back up at the angel. “Cas buddy, I need to get out of here. Can't you just angel-zap us outta here or somethin'?” 

“Dean.”

“I know, I know. Heaven's probably got you on a leash, givin' orders on what's good what's bad. Can't save a human.” Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes and raising his eyebrows. He wanted nothing more than to just take Castiel in his arms and hold him until he was sure that he would alright by himself. He didn't want Cas to leave him. The thought destroyed him.

“My powers aren't functioning properly here. It's almost as if someone—”

“What? Angel proofed it?” Dean smiled, closing his eyes for a moment to imagine something so ridiculous. Castiel on the other hand, was a far cry from amused. 

He let go of Dean's hand. Standing up, he began to walk to the plastic door that separated the two from the outside rooms. However, he stopped just at the end of Dean's bed, resting his hands on the backboard. “I apologize, but I must be departing now. I expect your brother and your father will be coming in to check on you shortly. Goodbye.” Instead of 'angel-zapping' away, Cas went to open the door, knowingly locking it behind him as he disappeared out of view. 

Dean was left alone with his thoughts once more  
__________________

“Dean? I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even awake. But I just thought you should know, that...I miss you. An' I'm sorry. Please don't leave me alone with 'im.” A small voice whimpered to the side. Slowly, Dean's eyes began to flutter open, the shape of his brother taking form by his left. He smiled a bit, as he saw how healthy he looked. There were no tear stains on Sam's face, no red brimmed eyes, no flushed cheeks. Sam had been staying strong, just as Dean told him. It was heart warming. It was also most likely forced. As if John would let Sam show tears, that is, if John was still around the area or if he couldn't be bothered to check out his 'mentally ill' son over the excitement of a werewolf hunt. 

Dean winced as he attempted to move his hand, sliding it over as far as he possibly could so he could rest at least the tops of his fingers on Sam's. He could practically hear his brother smile. “You're alright? What's it like here? Do they treat you good?” 

The older Winchester laughed, opening his eyes fully. Though it seemed as if Sam had not been crying a minute ago, he certainly was now. “I just got here, Sammy. I haven't even met any of the nurses here, but let's hope they think I'm cute, huh?” He winked with a grin, watching his brother eagerly wipe his tears away and wrinkle his nose up.

“Dean, you're confusing reality with porn again.” Sam laughed. The tears seemed to flow more quickly now, the child obviously hated seeing his brother in this way. Completely helpless. Dean was always watching out for him, taking care for him now it seemed as if everything was up to him now. However, most of all, he felt guilty for all of it. It was because of him that Dean was in this shithole. 

“Look at you, Sammy. Keepin' me on my toes.” Dean beamed, watching his brother laugh a bit. Usually a rare sight. The hunter furrowed his eyebrows as he began to turn on his side, facing his brother. “Sam, I want you to promise me somthin', okay? I want you to promise me that you'll get past this whole huntin' monsters thing like we're the frigging ghostbusters. I want you to go and enjoy your life better than I've enjoyed mine. Hell, I barely even enjoyed it at all. 'Right, Sammy?”

Sam froze, his tears pausing on his face and bundling up in his eyes. His mouth gaped a bit. “Are you dyin', Dean? But, Cas..he'll protect you won't he? That's what angels do. Protect people. Right?” Dean said nothing, only nodded in return letting his brother climb up onto the bed and curl himself into the hunter. 

They stayed like that for three hours, both of them asleep for the majority of the time, until a rather fair sized woman proded Sam with a pen, until he got up and climbed off. “Sorry kiddo,” she muttered, watching him run out of the room. She turned, glancing over at Dean and continued the same thing. She smiled at him as he stirred, putting the tip of the pen against her thin glossy lips. She had strands of orange hair rolling down over her shoulders, falling free from her messy bun placed at the top of her head.

Dean however, looked like hell. His hair was all but completely flat, with a giant cowlick in the middle, and his uniform in a complete wrinkle. “Uh-hey. You here to clean my sheets?”

“No, that's Nancy. I'm Valerie, or Val if you prefer. Most of the patients call me the latter, however. But I'm here to simply check on how you're doing. And how are you doing, Mr.....Skywalker?” Valerie looked away, trying to hide the smile planted widely across her face. 

Dean too, had to crack a smile on that one. There was a reason why nobody trusted Sam with the fake Ids. Well, obviously there was the fact that he was too young, but....

However, it wasn't something funny enough to change the entire situation he was in. He recollected himself. “Well, Valerie, I'm in an asylum, I'm chained to a bed, my brother saw me in the shower naked, my dad's a complete dick head, and the one person I thought I could maybe love acts like they think I'm scared of them. So you tell me, Val.” Dean snapped, his eyes narrowed into slits. He watched the nurse examine everything that he just said, trying to process it through her mind 

She pulled up a chair from across the room, setting it down in front of the hunter, and sat down. She pursed her lips, curling a strand of ginger hair around her finger. “Dean, I'm not a therapist. I'm not being paid to offer you Cosmo sex tips. I'm here to take care of you, and this wall that you're putting up ain't gonna work on me. Now, I'm going to uncuff you, but I don't want any trouble. Got it?” Dean watched her, biting his lip. 

“Got it,” He muttered. Slowly, Valerie stood up, unclasping the two wrist-cuffs. Immediately, Dean sat up, his feet still clasped up. “Really? Am I supposed to sell my voice to have my feet back or what?”

Valerie crossed her arms, settling back into the chair, and crossing her legs. “I just don't want you runnin' off like some crazed maniac. We get enough low self-esteem kids here, we don't want them all turning into psychopaths.” She smiled, tilting her head to the side a bit, watching Dean take in the white plastic room.

He looked over at her. “So what? You're scared we're all gonna run around the world yelling at people how much we hate ourselves? It's not like that you know. I'm not that chubby twelve year old girl alone on Valentine's Day.” 

She sighed, standing up, and pushing the chair back. “Listen, I've got places to go. You're not the only patient here. I'll be back tomorrow. And I guess, in the meantime, you can move around this room to your heart's content.” She muttered, unfastening the last two cuffs. “I trust you for some reason kid.” She smirked, patting Dean's hand before leaving, locking the door behind her.

_____________________  
Week 2

There was chatter outside the room, from a group of what sounded about at least fifteen people. The sound of wheels followed, and there was banging against various doors down the hallway.

Dean was sitting on his bed examining the room, there were no windows, no mingling with other patients or people, there was only the daily ten minute visits with Valerie. Not even Sam or Cas came in to see him. This was the most exciting thing to happen all week. 

Cautiously, he stood up, making his way over to the door, pressing his ear against it to hear properly.

“...he just came out of nowhere. Do we have room for him?” A gruff male voice murmured.

“People don't just fall from the sky, Artie. What's wrong with him?” Valerie replied.

“He keeps saying that this was god's will or some of that crazy christian bull crap.” 

“Yeah, like we don't get enough of that already.” Valerie muttered, followed by a sigh. “But do we have room for him?”

Artie hesitated. “I honestly don't know, Val. This guy...there's somethin' about him. He's different than everyone else here, y'know? Maybe we could bunk him with someone.”

“Bunk him with someone?” She laughed. “Who? 'Skywalker' over there? How do we know they won't go at each other's throat?”

“You're right. Sorry, Nurse Tritan. Well, let's put him down here, maybe he'll.....” The voice began to merge into one, as Dean's eyes began to flutter shut. The mystery patient would just have to wait until tomorrow.


End file.
